"Yes, dear; she is evidently one of those people who faint at the sight of blood. And you do look rather dreadful, dear, though I don't mind you a bit. And you must not talk now; you truly must not!"
"Rubbish! I'm going to get up in a minute, as soon as the water comes. But—I say, Margaret, how about the Cuban war? Do you suppose—the rest of them—feel the same way about blood? because—"
"Peggy, I am surprised at you!" said Margaret. "Hush this moment, or I will let your head drop!"
CHAPTER XIII.
IN THE NIGHT.
|
Quand on conspire, sans frayeur Il faut se faire conspirateur; Pour tout le monde il faut avoir Perruque blonde, et collet noir!" |
Peggy's injury proved to be slight, as she herself had declared, but the jar had been considerable, and her head ached so that she was glad to be put to bed and nursed by Margaret. Rita hovered about, still very pale, and apparently much more disturbed by the accident than the actual sufferer. She put many questions: Would Peggy be well to-morrow? Probably still weak? Would it be necessary for her to remain in her room this evening? In that case, what would Margaret do? Would she leave her to Elizabeth's care, and come down as usual?
"Certainly not!" Margaret replied. "Elizabeth will stay with Peggy at tea-time, but otherwise I shall not leave her. You don't mind staying alone, Rita? Of course, there is not much to be done; Peggy is not ill at all, only weak and tired, but she likes to have me with her. You will not be lonely?"